Pumped
by InkyCoffee
Summary: "She'd been expecting a balding, middle aged man with a beer gut, but the guy climbing down from the cab was tall, broad, and young. Well, still older than her, but close enough to her age for her to be looking twice. And he was well worth a second look." Written to fill the #UnsexyJobsForCastle challenge. Septic tank cleaner AU. Oneshot, for Jill.


**A/N: After a conversation on Twitter the other day about whether Castle could make any job sexy, Jill bestowed on me the challenge of the ****Septic Tank Cleaner AU, so Jill, this is for you, my dear. It's not quite a crack!fic, but if you take it as such I won't be offended ;-) **

**Thanks to Katherine for the beta. **

**Disclaimer: Castle belongs to AWM and ABC**

* * *

It was late afternoon when the noise of a truck pulling off the main road pulled her attention away from her book, disturbing the peace surrounding her father's cabin. She didn't come up here too often, but when she'd been told to take two weeks off or lose the holidays all together, she'd decided to spend two glorious weeks in the sun, away from cities and murders and an apartment that was a little too quiet when there was no work to distract her. Her Dad had spent the first weekend here with her, and they'd gone fishing together for the first time since she was twelve. He'd asked her to take care of a few things while she was here, and the arrival of the truck through the trees was the last of them.

No matter how gross it was to think about, the septic tank needed pumping, and someone needed to be here when the guy showed up. She'd already found the opening, half buried under a light layer of dirt and leaves, midway between the cabin and the shed, not far away from the loop driveway.

She laid her book aside, threw a t-shirt on over the bikini top she'd been wearing – she was planning on another dip in the lake before dinner and had only bothered to put on some denim shorts since she'd dried off earlier – and slid her flip-flops on, before stepping off the verandah to meet the truck, which stopped exactly where she indicated. She grinned up at the driver as he cut the engine and climbed down from the cab.

Damn.

She'd been expecting a balding, middle aged man with a beer gut, but the guy climbing down from the cab was tall, broad, and young. Well, still older than her, but close enough to her age for her to be looking twice. And he was well worth a second look. He was wearing navy coveralls, making the blue of his eyes stand out, bright and bold, and the fabric was filled out beautifully by the breadth of his chest, shoulders, arms, and thighs.

Her mouth went dry.

Shaking herself out of her momentary haze, she smiled up at him in greeting, just in time to see his eyes snap up from her bare legs. A faint blush tinged his ears at being caught staring, and she bit her lip to hold back the smirk. He rallied, though, and found his tongue.

"Rick Castle," he introduced himself, offering his hand to shake.

She slid her palm into his large, calloused one. "Kate," she replied, blinking up at him.

He cleared his throat. "Which way to the tank?" he asked, his voice rich and accent more educated than she would have expected for someone in his job.

"Over here." She led him around the back of the truck, to the lid of the tank.

"Great! I'll just open it and check it out before we begin pumping," he said, getting down on his hands and knees to open the tank.

She stifled a laugh. "That is the usual order of things, yes," she joked. His eyes flew up to meet hers, his jaw dropping even as he raked his eyes over her form.

"I doubt you ever have much of a problem in that department," he said smoothly, before lifting the lid.

The smell was rotten, and she backed up a few paces. He didn't seem to notice, though, looking down into the tank to check the system, inspecting the filter and ensuring the mechanisms were all in working order before heading back to the truck to unwind a huge hose from one side.

She stood back to watch him work, the coveralls doing little to hide the play of muscles as he manipulated the long pipe down into the hole with ease.

"You look like you've done that before," she said.

He grinned at her. "My hose needs to be in your hole before we can begin pumping," he said, then froze comically. "I mean... um..."

"If it's any comfort, I don't think I've ever seen a hose as long or thick as yours," she replied with a raised eyebrow.

He smiled sheepishly as he headed back over to his truck to get what looked like a shovel with a really long handle. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how unprofessional it sounded until it was out of my mouth."

She found herself sneaking a glance at said mouth – the way his lips curled up at the corners was utterly kissable – before meeting his eyes again. She only smirked though, when she realized he was watching her watch him, and instead asked, "What's that for?"

"This? This is the least sexy part of the job. I have to stir up the sludge at the bottom to make sure it all gets pumped."

"There's nothing like being spooned after a good pumping," she said with an exaggerated wink.

"I'll have you know I never leave a hole without spooning it thoroughly." This time there was no apology in his voice, his eyes flashing the challenge at her.

"That's the way you should treat a tight, wet hole after a good pumping."

He groaned, even as he stirred up the vile smelling substance and switched the pump on, and she watched him work in silence for a few minutes. Really, the view was worth braving the smell.

It wasn't until he was finishing up that she spoke again. "Do you have any more stops you have to make it to? Or would you like to stop and have a cold drink before you head off?"

His eyes lit up, a smile causing the corners to crinkle. "That'd be great, only... I wouldn't want to come in with these smelly clothes on."

"How about I bring the drinks down to the dock?" she nodded in the direction of the lake.

"Sounds great. I'll just finish packing up and I'll meet you down there."

She nodded, turning to the house and fixing a couple of iced sodas – there wasn't any beer in her father's cabin, and besides, Rick still had to drive his truck home unless he stayed the night... _don't go there, Kate. _

He was already waiting down at the short dock, her father's fishing boat tied to one side, and as she came down the slope, she watched as he toed off his boots and socks, and peeled the coveralls off his frame, rolling them into a neat bundle and sitting them in the grass next to the first post of the dock. He had been wearing shorts and a t-shirt underneath, the outfit displaying what the coveralls had only hinted at – his biceps were _huge_, his whole form sculpted and powerful.

She swallowed, trying not to stare, even as she handed him a soda. His fingers brushed hers, and she felt it to her toes.

"Cheers," he said, clinking glasses with her and taking a sip.

She watched his Adam's apple bob, found herself wondering what it would be like to lick the hint of stubble on his throat, her drink suspended mid-way to her mouth. It was only when he cocked an eyebrow at her that she took a hurried slurp, resulting in a coughing fit and bubbles coming up her nose.

Way to be sexy, Kate.

"You okay there?" he asked, concerned. She nodded.

"Let's sit," she replied, settling down at the end of the dock so her feet could dangle over the edge, her toes just able to skim the water. He lowered himself down next to her, and they sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, sipping their drinks while they enjoyed the late afternoon sun and the light breeze across the water.

"I take it you're on vacation?" he asked after a while.

"Yeah. This is my Dad's place. I live in the city, but it's nice to be able to get away once in a while."

"I miss the city. Grew up there." His eyes clouded as he looked across the lake. "Had to move when I got this job, though. It's probably a good thing. I couldn't really afford Manhattan, and I had my little girl to think of."

Her stomach sank like one of the smooth rocks she could see through the water at the bottom of the lake.

"You have a daughter?" she asked.

He grinned, his whole face softening and coming alive. "Alexis. She's a redhead, 14 going on 40. Super smart, though. She's my whole world."

"You and your wife must be proud," Kate said stiffly. She knew she was showing her hand by sounding disappointed, but dammit, when he'd been working, he had been flirting back.

He stared at her before replying. "I'm not married. Meredith – my, uh, ex-wife – left us for another man ten years ago. She's in LA now. Alexis hardly ever sees her."

It was all Kate could do to stop herself from wrapping him in a hug. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I got my daughter out of the deal, and even if it meant delaying a few of my dreams, I'd do it all over again for her," he said passionately.

"What kind of dreams?" Kate asked, curious.

He turned his head away, staring out across the water again. "Never mind," he mumbled, shy.

"I'm serious. Tell me," she begged.

He huffed, turned to look at her for a long moment. She could feel her cheeks turning pink under his steady gaze. "Fine," he said eventually. "But you have to promise not to laugh."

"Of course."

He sighed. "I nearly became a writer. I had a couple of books published when I was younger, but I was young and stupid, dropped out of college and spent everything. When Alexis was born, I took this job. I wanted her to have a steady life, and with my background this was the only job I could get."

"Wait – you're Richard Castle, the writer?" Kate was very familiar with the handful of books he had written.

"I was, yeah."

"Wow." She blinked as she absorbed that information, her traitorous mind replaying the times when his words had been the only comfort or escape she could find in the dark period after her mother's murder.

"I'm surprised you've heard of me. It was a long time ago." He sighed, then rallied with a playful nudge. "What about you? What's your story?"

"Me? I'm a homicide detective, actually." She braced herself for a negative reaction.

"Really? That's so cool!"

She huffed a laugh. "Thanks. I think?"

"I would have pegged you as a lawyer, maybe, but not a cop," he said, looking at her appraisingly. "There's got to be a story there."

The echo of sadness, the constant tug of grief she had been living with for so long that it had become a part of her rose up, threatening to choke her. She stiffened, looking out across the lake, all the joy and playfulness of the day leeching out of her, leaving her empty and cold.

"I'm... I have to go," she said, moving to stand, but a warm hand on her arm stopped her.

"Please don't. I'm sorry. My stupid mouth always gets me in trouble. I shouldn't have said that," his blue eyes were full of remorse.

She chewed her lip for a long moment, emotions at war with her logic. She wanted to climb into bed and hide from her grief, raw even after all these years. She wanted to stay out here and bask in this man's smile.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, leaning toward, invading her personal space. Her lips parted as she stared at him, her eyes flicking down to his mouth, and all she had to do was tilt her head, and...

His lips were like velvet, soft and strong and sure, and she melted into him with a sigh. He slipped his hands down to her waist, tugging her closer, and her lips parted for him, his hot mouth creating havoc with her nerve endings, her whole body burning with arousal. She hummed as their tongues met, intent on devouring him or being devoured, her hands kneading the firm muscles of his shoulders, her skin flushing with need.

After several long, drugging kisses, he broke away, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'd love to take things further," he mumbled, his fingers leaving trails of goosebumps on the skin of her waist, "But I've been working all day and I probably don't smell all that sexy right now."

She laughed, sipping another kiss from his mouth, before standing. "I wasn't complaining, but I have a potential solution," she said, reveling in his hot gaze as she peeled her t-shirt and shorts off, leaving them in a heap on top of her flip-flops. She took a moment to enjoy the sun on her bikini-clad body before executing a perfect dive off the dock into the clear, cool water.

By the time she surfaced, he was removing his shirt, and she stared openly as she tread water. A terrific splash later, and then two rough hands were snaking around her middle, a hot mouth trailing down the back of her neck, and it was all she could do to keep afloat.


End file.
